365 Degrees
by PodBayDoors
Summary: What Jack is thinking on Christmas Eve. Set anytime between late season 7 and now.


Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime / Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.

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This is was written for Shipmas 2007 at Gateworld. The story is set whenever you want it to be- late season 7 to now. Jack thinking about Sam on Christmas Eve.

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**365 degrees**

He watches her. Really, it's all the entertainment he needs even though it's nice to have the big party off-base with an actual live band and lots of alcohol- both of those niceties giving him socially acceptable reasons not to have to listen to Daniel- not that being socially acceptable is high on his to-do list for today (or any day) but it is Christmas, after all.

He knows that eventually she'll wish "Merry Christmas" to every single person in the room and that most of the men and probably some of the women will think about her in ways he'd like to zat them for if he knew. But he doesn't know and that's good so he can let them live. He takes his eyes off of her long enough to smile at Teal'c and his mound of cookies. The laconic alien is completely quiet, too, being occupied with the culinary wonders of this excessive Tau'ri holiday. He nods at a slightly inebriated Daniel and that'll keep him happy for another fifteen minutes. He doesn't know where everyone else is and he doesn't care though he's glad could they all could come.

Then he turns back and catches her watching him over the shoulder of another enamored airman. She smiles and he smiles and the connection is re-established. It's unfortunate the crowd is too dense for him to be able to fully appreciate her ass, but he'll get his chance some other day. When she moves to a cluster of officers of her rank he watches a little more closely because he doesn't need any complications. There are enough already and it never ends well because no one wants to find out they're a temporary diversion but that's what they always are even if it doesn't start out that way. Just as she'll move around the room and come back to this table, so they circle around other people but always come back to the truth.

Which is that she is his. He supposes it's the other way around, too, but frankly, he's selfish and doesn't always see things from her point of view- which is probably all for the best because every time he tries to he screws up. Some times he screws up big-time, because he can't say that he really understands her. Yet.

And sometimes he has to remind her, like when he runs his finger along the back of her neck while she's looking in a microscope or when he finds her lost notebook because she's absentminded but he never misses a thing when it comes to her. She reminds him too, when they spend the night in the field and he wakes up with his arm drawn over her and their fingers interlaced. It's an unspoken rule, and it has been for years. She sleeps next to him, he sits next to her, they stand by each other. No one ever asks, "Is this seat taken?" because it is and everyone knows it. The seat is always taken. Even when they're apart.

And nothing says it quite like nailing a bad guy right before he blasts one's beloved into the next galaxy. It's such a romantic experience.

But something's changing, he can feel it. He remembers back to the time he first wanted her (okay, it was in the briefing room the moment they met), the day he first figured out he needed her, and the day he was forced to realize that he loved her. Pretty much everything had been at cruising altitude since then, just waiting to land. He watches her move through the room, closer now and he can hear her voice. Something's forcing the plane down, he knows.

He knows because he finds himself picking up the phone to call her late at night. And she knows as she stands in the doorway of his quarters, watching him until he is dressed and standing in front of her, matter and anti-matter inches from annihilation, then she turns and silently walks away. The touches are too long, the looks too lingering, the silences too deep. He closes his eyes, and he holds her against the car door until they come to their senses. There's no letting go next time, he knows. The moments are happening faster and stronger than they used to be and something's going to snap.

It's a problem but he's tired of it. He's done his part and so has she. They don't have the strength to fight everything, anymore.

He smiles at Daniel who is even less coherent than usual by this point and asks Teal'c to get another beer since he's going up for more pie, anyway. He watches her. Almost close enough to touch. He waits, and then he does touch because he doesn't give a damn anymore.

She turns, a little startled. He smiles, and then she smiles. And then she sits down where she belongs.

Next Christmas is going to be different. He knows.


End file.
